The value of nice
Maybe this is why we’re here
Along with Terra Madre is Salone del Gusto, which is part Italian national food trade show, and part state fair. Buyers come to find new products, but also everyone comes to check out great food. A half-dozen booths represent different regions in Italy, with hundreds of businesses and thousands of products from olive oil to salame to cheese and things you haven’t imagined yet. There are presentations and samplings and of course you can buy things to take home or enjoy onsite.
So I’m looking for things to bring home, and I remember those tasty, organic, taralli crackers - perfect. I find the stand, and re-meet Nadia, who is working the stand all by herself, all week. She’s selling taralli — remember they were named the best in Italy last year — and other crackers. I told her I loved the taralli and wanted to take some home.
In case I didn’t mention, Nadia’s crackers are zero-mile production, meaning it all happens in the same place. Nadia grows the wheat, grinds and flour, and makes the crackers. Herself. She puts so much of herself into these crackers that she puts her own full name on the packaging.
I’m going to get two bags, 2.50 each. And Nadia is tickled that I came back and want to buy more.
“Now, Brian, if you get five bags it would be only 10 euro.”
I’m going to get five bags, and so I make my selections and Nadia gathers them up in a sack. I pull out my credit card…
“No, sorry, I can only take cash right now.”
The only cash I have is some change in my pocket, maybe six euro.
“I will find an ATM.”
A half hour later, I have learned that not only are there no ATMs onsite, but the nearest one that we know will take a foreign card is more than a mile away. So I return empty handed, and plan to use my change to get the two bags I originally wanted.
(I considered, briefly, trying to buy something else using a credit card and get extra cash, but I’ve worked a thousand farmers markets myself and that would be a bit dodgy and I probably wouldn’t do it.)
“Brian, you came back! Again! It’s okay you couldn’t find cash. I want you to take this bag as my gift to you.” She’s got the big sack with five bags in it.
“No, we can’t do that. Let me just buy two bags.”
“No, you must take this bag home. It is my pleasure.”
Pause.
“Okay, then you must take this.” And I put all my six euros of change on her counter.
There was a bit more insistence on both sides, but now we have exchanged contact information and I’m hoping to visit her farm when I return to Italy and we’re becoming friends.
Grazie. Grazie.
I leave with my bag, and now zero money, and I’m feeling pretty good about things, but still feel I need to do something. People like Nadia make the world a better place, and we need to take care of them.
A bit later I found some saffron honey. Saffron honey. Honey infused with saffron. And it is divine. But it doesn’t come in containers small enough to carry on a plane, and the woman selling it and I are both slightly sad about that. Maybe I’ll get some when I’m back in Italy.
And I don’t know why this didn’t occur to me earlier, but a few minutes later I’m thinking about how at just about every market I trade chocolate for sausage or tomatoes or yarn or something, and suddenly I have an idea. I go back to the saffron honey.
“I do need to get some, because I need to give someone a gift.”
“Oh, perfect. If it’s a gift then let me wrap it for you.”
And she puts it in a clear bag — because you don’t want to hide that beautiful infusion — and ties it up with a ribbon to make it even more beautiful.
Now back to Nadia.
“Nadia, you have been so nice, and so kind, and so generous, I want to give you this as a thank you.”
“Brian, you don’t need to…”
And now she’s crying.
And now I’m crying.
And this is why nice people are so important, and you need to take good care of them.
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